


Waking Up the Giants

by theonetryingtolive



Category: Inglourious Basterds (2009)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Angst with a Happy Ending, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, Slow Burn, Threesome - F/M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-10
Updated: 2021-02-28
Packaged: 2021-03-16 21:08:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 3,302
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29338833
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theonetryingtolive/pseuds/theonetryingtolive
Summary: ‘Be careful waking up the giantsHe's a bigger man and a better man than I amWe rise up when we hear the sirensWhere's the truth when your heart's not lyingI've been living like the end's not dyingI only listen to the wind when it's crying’ Grizfolk
Relationships: Hugo Stiglitz/Reader, Hugo Stiglitz/Reader/Wilhelm Wicki, Hugo Stiglitz/Wilhelm Wicki, Wilhelm Wicki/Reader
Kudos: 5





	1. The Blond Alpha

Hugo Stiglitz looked more dead than alive when they found him. The facility wasn’t heavily guarded and in retrospect that should have been their first clue as to his state. 

Lieutenant gestured for them to wait as he walked closer to the iron door. There was the smell of Alpha under a layer of acrid pain. The smell was so pungent the younger Betas staggered backwards. Meanwhile, Wilhelm, Donny and Aldo moved closer to the door. Aldo peered inside through the rectangular slant on the door, at eye level. There was no movement inside but they could smell the Alpha. 

Donny was the one who opened the door but before Aldo could step in, Wicki held out a hand to stop him. There was a brief exchange in the silent looks between them. Wilhelm stepped inside first. The light from the corridor illuminated a space by the door but the Alpha was not in the light. He was crouching away from it, shirtless and barefoot, one of his hands pressed to the grimy wall behind him. Wicki took a few seconds to breathe, just to center himself. The floor was sticky but he refused to look down at it. It was better if he didn’t know what was making his boots squelch. 

He crouched down so as to be less intimidating. The other Alpha didn’t move. Wilhelm spoke, in German, “Can you walk?”

The blond Alpha bared his teeth at him. Point taken. When he tried to stand up, though, Wicki saw the muscles of his legs straining under the effort, saw the shifting of the Alpha’s weight to lean on his left foot instead of his right. 

Wicki stood as well. His eyes settled on the mess of broken skin on the blond’s shoulder, right above where his scent and bonding glands were. Someone passed Wicki a blanket. One of the Betas, if only because of the smell, and he gave it to the blond Alpha. He winced when he wrapped it around his shoulders but otherwise didn’t comment. 

They made it out easily. At least it was much easier getting out than it had been to get in. Hugo’s bare feet sunk into the snow, slowing him down. Wicki would have offered to help if Hugo hadn’t snapped at him when he reached out a hand towards him. 

Wilhelm walked behind him and his eyes went down to the red trail on the snow. It was impossible to assess the amount of bleeding without a proper examination but Wicki was certain Hugo would need at least a few stitches. 

The getaway truck tumbled as it made its way through the snow. Donny kept his eyes fixed on the wall behind Hugo while Aldo pretended to sleep. 

Wilhelm looked at the Alpha they’d rescued. His whole body was shaking now, possibly from the cold. Hugo’s eyes were fixed on him.


	2. Stitches

The silence was almost preternatural. Wicki leaned back against a wall and listened carefully. He closed his eyes, setting his rifle down, trying to decide whether he should go in there or not. When a harsh cry broke the tranquility, his hand went to the doorknob. He paused.

“Everything all right?” He asked, in German.

Hugo’s gruff voice answered him from behind the closed door. “Fine.”

“Why did you scream?” Again, the silence. “Hugo?” Wicki asked again.

“Stitches,” came the reply. “Smithson’s hands weren’t meant to patch people up.”

Wicki barked out a laugh, looked up at the mouldy ceiling. “He’s much better at it than me.”

“I believe that.” There was a different sort of silence afterwards. Wicki felt calmer. When Smithson opened the door and told him he was done with Hugo, Wicki went to lean against the doorway. He acted nonchalant.

“How do you feel?” He asked Hugo.

The blond Alpha winced as he reached for his shirt. That was when Wilhelm saw it. Whipping marks all over his back. He saw some burn marks too, down in his lower back, and could tell even from a distance that Smithson had needed to use more than a couple dozen stitches.

“Like shit,” Hugo replied, shrugging the shirt on. He’d been given a new pair of socks, pants, boots, shirt and jacket. The clothes didn’t fit him well and Wicki estimated he was around twenty or thirty pounds underweight.

Wicki walked him back to the other side of the building, where the rest had claimed spots on the floor using their rucksacks. Wicki had picked a space by the back and had unrolled his sleeping mat and bag. He gestured for Hugo to lie down. He could only lie on his stomach, though, and Hugo didn’t like that. He kept his eyes open, surveying the scene before him.

Wicki knew no amount of reassurances would help relax Hugo. He opened a book to distract himself.

“Read to me,” Hugo said. It wasn’t a question, more a demand than a plea.

Wicki smiled and nodded. “I can, but it’s in French.”

“Show off.” Hugo scoffed. “Read, Wilhelm.”

“Ja, ja. Be quiet now.” Wicki flipped to the start. “ _Il y a aujourd’hui trois cent quarante-huit ans six mois et dix-neuf jours que les Parisiens s’éveillèrent au bruit de toutes les cloches sonnant à grande volée dans la triple enceinte de la Cité, de l’Université et de la Ville_...”


	3. Scenting

The first time Hugo had killed a Nazi it hadn’t been a Gestapo officer. It had been before he’d been drafted. He’d been walking back home after a long shift at the factory when he’d seen an Alpha sniffing the air with a strange expression on his face. 

At the time the war had not started yet. The seeds of fascism had started to poison the earth and Hugo was angry. Angrier than he’d ever been in his entire life. The Alpha had seen a Jewish couple and had yelled obscenities at them, gesticulating wildly to convey his point. Hugo’s blood had boiled. Before the Alpha of the couple could reply, Hugo had slammed the pathetic Nazi fuck against the wall behind him. He’d hit him, as hard as he could, over and over, slamming his head against the wall behind him until a spatter of blood hit his face. When he’d turned around, the couple was gone. 

He did not feel remorse afterwards. In his mind, the separation between good and evil was clear. He would not apologise for doing what was necessary to fight evil.

Hugo, however, had never felt the need to kill to protect in a visceral, personal way. Until now. 

The Nazi (an Alpha if the stench was anything to go by) spat at Wilhelm, earning himself a broken nose courtesy of Wicki himself. When he started spouting off poison Hugo crossed his arms and watched as Wicki lived up to his Basterd training. Even he knew not to interrupt. His time would come and he could be patient. 

Only after all useful information had been extracted and Wicki went off on patrol did Hugo move from his spot at the corner of the room. He was alone with the Nazi and it was not a mistake. Lieutenant Raine didn’t make mistakes like that. 

Hugo’s fingers grazed the knife strapped to his side, unsheathed it. He walked with purpose, kicked the prisoner hard, had him roll over so he could look at his face. When the pathetic fuck tried to call him a pig, a traitor, Hugo laughed. He pressed his boot to the Nazi’s neck until he felt something give way under his weight. He didn’t kill him yet, though.

There were many ways to show devotion. Hugo walked back to where the rest were sitting around a Coleman stove and drank bitter coffee. His eyes went from Wilhelm to the fire and back again. The animal raging inside him had been fed and was no longer clamouring for blood.

As the evening went on, Hugo remained close to Wilhelm’s side. There was not much to say, not much that he could do to soothe away the hurt he could see etched in his face. What he could do, though, was bring meagre offerings to quell the pain.

It was quiet, the rest of the Basterds were either asleep or on watch. Hugo rolled on his side, placed his sheathed knife between them. Wicki’s hand touched the knife for a few seconds. Then, he moved it across the space between them, towards the spot where Hugo’s own hand was curled up, clutching tightly onto the mat. Wicki’s hand was heavy on top of his and Hugo whined softly, as softly as possible. Wicki’s fingers curled around Hugo’s and he gently pulled his hand across that empty space to hold his wrist to Wicki’s lips. 

Hugo had never been scented before. He never thought he’d be deserving of it. He whimpered softly, letting Wilhelm do what he had to. When he was done, Hugo tugged Wicki’s hand to his own lips. He pressed his lips to the sensitive skin of his inner wrist, gave it a tiny lick. He nuzzled the skin, closed his eyes, discovered what it was to be part of something other than himself. 

Hours later, before he got up to relieve Omar of watch duty, Hugo pressed his nose to Wicki’s wrist again. The other Alpha smiled in his sleep.


	4. Shut Up

Wicki couldn’t shake the feeling that he was messing up in a major way. Lieutenant had given the go-ahead to go to a bar and meet someone. It was a very delicate matter, too. The suppressants they took helped stop ruts but Lieutenant preferred for them to find an Omega once in a while. Not to fuck, necessarily. Just having an Omega around helped keep their tempers in check and reigned in their instincts. Sex, if it happened, had to be consensual and protected. Lieutenant went around shoving condoms to everyone once the days off were agreed upon. It was a funny sight watching Hugo hold a condom pinched between two fingers as he looked at Aldo with an expression on his face which morphed from distress to disgust and surprise. 

Donny always knew where to go, like he had a compass inside him guiding him towards the bar with the most Omegas. Wilhelm had been more than happy to follow along. Where Aldo went and with whom was not something he was privy to, and not something he particularly needed (or wanted) to know. 

He’d followed Donny away, as he always did, and tried very hard not to think of Hugo. He’d given him the name of the place but Hugo hadn’t looked interested. He had a strange expression on his face as he watched Wicki go. When the scent of Omega filled his nostrils, though, Wicki forced himself to focus on having a good time. He’d been thinking about this, looking forward to it. Before they’d rescued Hugo. Now the bar was unappetizing. And no matter how prettily an Omega batted her eyelashes at him, it didn’t make him feel any better. 

He found himself aching to leave so he’d gone. Donny had stopped paying attention to him as soon as they stepped into the bar so he didn’t even bother saying goodbye.

Hugo was sitting by the window of the dilapidated farmhouse they’d commandeered. He did not look at Wicki as he came in, didn’t even appear to have heard him. Wicki felt a pang of hurt in his chest. He was bending down to untie his boots when he saw one of his shirts was crumpled in the corner of the room. He went to pick it up, looked at Hugo. 

“Did you do this?” He asked, holding the garment up. It was clean, but it looked like Hugo had bunched it up with a vengeance and then tossed it after failing to turn the shirt into a compact ball.

“Shut up.”

“Hugo, did you do this?”

“I said shut up!” Hugo tossed the book he’d been holding away as he stood. “Fuck you!”

“You wanna explain to me why you’re acting like an animal? What the fuck is your problem, Hugo?”

“You wanna know what my problem is? It’s you! Fuck you!” Hugo kicked Wicki’s duffel bag as he shoved past him and out the farmhouse. 

He didn’t return soon. Two, three, four hours passed until Wicki heard a light shuffling coming back into the room.   
“I should have asked you to come with us,” Wicki said in the darkness. Hugo scoffed. 

Wicki was lying on his side on the lumpy mattress, in the dark. He squinted to better see Hugo. 

“Hugo-”

“Wilhelm,” he said, cutting him off. A soft, quiet, barely-there howl that almost sounded like a whimper filled the air.

“C’mere,” Wicki said, lifting the blankets for the other Alpha. “I- I’m sorry.”

“I don’t need your pity.”

Wicki’s hand found Hugo’s neck, he could feel the tension in the muscles. His hand squeezed gently, once. “It’s not pity.”

“Wicki?”

“Ja?”

“Shut up.”

In the darkness, Wicki smiled.


	5. Suppressants

Hugo inhaled sharply and pushed the items off the table. The mission had gone well, they had managed to infiltrate the house of a prominent Nazi (whose body was lying on the carpet a few feet away from him) but Hugo was not done with business yet. He pulled open each of the drawers, one by one, rummaged inside them feverishly. When his fingers gripped the thin vial he’d been looking for, he sighed in relief. 

He moved away from the window, grabbed the syringe and needle from the pouch he carried and filled the vial. He was shaking by the time he pushed his uniform down enough to have access to his buttocks. He did a quick measurement with his hand and pushed the needle inside his flesh. He had to bite back a grunt as he realised he’d inserted it wrong. He had to try again, though it was hard when his hands were as unsteady as they felt. He was in the process of pressing the plunger when the door of the studio opened and Wilhelm’s scent wafted into the room. 

Hugo looked up. Their eyes met. Wilhelm’s expression hardened and in two strides he had crossed the room and pulled the syringe out, thankfully empty by the time he did so. Hugo shoved him away, pulled his uniform back up, tried to shoulder pass him. 

Wilhelm was not having it. He grabbed Hugo’s arm, tightly. “ _What did you do?”_

_“Shut up,”_ Hugo said, pushing back at him, growling in warning. 

“ _No. What did you do? What did you just inject yourself with?”_

_“Let go. Let. Go.”_ Hugo snarled, shoved at Wilhelm. The other Alpha replied with a loud, threatening growl, using his body to push Hugo back against the wall. 

Hugo snarled, pushing back, flipping them around so he could push Wilhelm against the wall. He wasn’t trying to fight him, not really. He didn’t use half his strength but Wicki had no qualms using his. The Austrian pinned Hugo’s wrists above his head, his displeasure evident in the air. He shoved Hugo’s head back, forced him to look at him.

“ _Answer me.”_

Wicki looked deep into his eyes and for the longest time neither moved. Hugo’s breathing hitched and he tilted his head back and to the side. It wasn’t a sign of complete surrender, but it signalled to the other Alpha that just this once, Hugo would comply.

“ _A suppressant,”_ Hugo replied.

Wicki stared at him, eyes wide, not truly comprehending what he meant. Why now? Why? Hadn’t they all received suppressants a few months ago- But no, they hadn’t. Hugo hadn’t been with them yet. And somehow Wicki had been so remiss so as to forget that Hugo needed suppressants just like they all did. Somehow he had forgotten about it. The guilt crushed him. He whined, low in his throat, and let go of Hugo’s wrists. 

“ _Hugo-”_

_“It’s not your fault. You didn’t know. I never said anything.”_

Wicki rubbed his face, pushed back all the self loathing he was experiencing. This wasn’t about _him._ “ _How close is your rut?”_

Hugo shrugged, lit a cigarette. “ _Due tomorrow. I fixed it, now.”_

_“Hugo, you can’t inject yourself with the garbage they have. We don’t know what’s in those suppressants, we don’t know if they’re contaminated, if they have something that’ll make your hormones go out of whack.”_

Hugo gave him a cold look. “ _What was I supposed to do, Wilhelm?”_

With that, Hugo stepped out of the studio. Wicki was left there on his own, contemplating the dead Nazi on the floor. He’d failed Hugo.


	6. Please

Hugo was shaking in his sleep. Under the thick blanket Wicki’d found in a cupboard, he is shaking. Wicki was frozen to the spot for a few seconds before he decided that right there, in that empty room in which it’s only the two of them, that nothing outside really matters. 

He crossed the room in two strides, rid himself of his shirt and slid under the blanket, tugging Hugo to himself. The other Alpha woke up, startled, and grumbled. He gave Wicki a disgruntled look and the Austrian rolled his eyes fondly. “You were shaking.”

“I know,” Hugo murmured in reply. He tucked his head under Wicki’s chin, very pointedly not thinking about how good it felt and how wrong it was. “I was cold. You are cold too.”

Wicki hummed low in his throat, a sound meant for soothing mates,but one which he had been making around Hugo a lot lately. The other Alpha never seemed to mind. “You’ll get warm faster if we do skin to skin contact.”

“You’re a pervert,” Hugo shot back, but unbuttoned his shirt, pressing closer to the Austrian. He won’t take the shirt off, not even now because he knows what his back looks like and the last thing he needs is Wicki feeling it. Especially now. 

“Hugo, we both know you could scalp me if you wanted to.”

“I don’t want to.” 

Hugo didn’t say anything else and Wicki didn’t pressure him. Slowly, the blond Alpha moved his nose over Wicki’s neck, happy with the scenting he’d done earlier that day. It was certainly going to last for a while, but he wanted to scent again before bed. Wicki never said no and maybe that was why Hugo was becoming so spoiled. Nobody had ever shared scents with him in this way before. It was primeval, almost. It appealed to Hugo’s most basic urges and he whined as he thought of that, a high-pitched whine that had Wicki humming in that rumbling way of his. 

Hugo slowly made his way up Wicki’s neck, resting his body on his elbows as he leaned over Wicki to nip and lick at the tender skin behind Wicki’s ear. Hugo could feel Wicki’s hands on his hips, steadying him, but not pulling him away. Hugo placed a kiss to Wicki’s warm skin and pulled back to admire his handiwork. Wicki’s hair was mussed up and he was looking at him with big eyes. Underneath it all, Hugo can smell it. A sweet scent underlying Wicki’s pine and chestnut and earth. Wicki smells of the forest and Hugo can’t imagine spending a day of his life without that scent. But underneath the forest there is a sweetness, almost like strawberries, or perhaps apples. It’s subtle at first but the more they look at each other, the more it grows.

“Please,” Wicki murmured.

Hugo’s hand cupped his cheek and he leaned down to press his forehead against Wicki’s. He was terrified, he was shaking again, but this time it wasn’t because of the cold. Wicki gasped softly, a little sound heavy with feeling. 

Hugo closed his eyes and pressed his lips against Wilhelm’s.


End file.
